


Nooks and Crannies - The Odyssey of Jubal Tanner

by kete



Series: Nooks and Crannies [5]
Category: The Big Valley
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, different POV, fifth episode, gapfiller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-21
Updated: 2010-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-12 19:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kete/pseuds/kete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fifth episode retold from Silas' POV: The interests of one individual versus the interests of the community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nooks and Crannies - The Odyssey of Jubal Tanner

That darn dam will be the end of me. It sure will. I mean our own Mr. Jarrod has worked for this project so long and so hard, jus' recently givin' that Rivers and Harbors Committee a presentation - documented even! - with all them figures of what this here valley is producin' and what they'll be able to achieve when they'll get their dam - and here comes Mr. Tanner and 'tis all for naught!

And I din't even think he was trouble when first he arrived.

I'm jus' watchin' Mr. Heath ropin' a calf in the corral while Miss Audra's timin' him. He's sure fast with it, is Mr. Heath, even if Miss Audra says Mr. Nick can do it faster. But p'raps she's jus' funnin', 'cause Mr. Heath not rightly believes her and they tussle a bit as he tries to drag her off the fence she's perchin' on. They're so sweet with each other 'tis a joy to see. And along comes a wagon with an ol' man and a boy and 'tis haltin' right in front of our corral fence.

"Mornin'," says the ol' man.

"Howdy," says Mr. Heath.

"I can see I'm on Barkley range," says the ol' man, "you both have Tom Barkley's mark."

Now, ain't that a right fine thing to say? I can see Mr. Heath and Miss Audra are both pleased with it, 'cause they're beamin' at each other and for once no one asks no silly questions how come that Mr. Heath lives here. But then it goes all downhill very fast. The ol' gentleman don't know that Mr. Tom's dead and although Mr. Heath done asked him twice already he don't say who he is.

But then the boy says, "I'm Chad. He's Jubal Tanner, my gramps, and we come a long way."

Jubal Tanner. I never done heard of no Jubal Tanner.

Then the boy says that his gramps got cut and his arm needs lookin' to and Miss Audra and Mr. Heath invite them right into the house.

I hurry back to my kitchen and get a bowl with hot water and a wash cloth - and in comes Miss Audra and whisks it all away to the library. Now, I can't rightly see why they have to tend to Mr. Tanner's cut arm in the library, splashin' with water and all that. They could do it in the kitchen. And we have a perfectly good bathroom on the second floor. They could do it there. Is no one in this here house thinkin' of them water stains on the furniture?

And here comes Miz Victoria, headed for the library. Oh my! She'll tell them.

Miss Audra and Mr. Heath now come out and with them is that little boy, Chad.

"Silas, this is Chad," Miss Audra introduces us.

"Hello, sir," says the boy.

"Hello, Chad," say I.

"We're giving Chad a bath," Miss Audra says. "Could you fix him something to eat when he's finished?"

"Certainly, Miss Audra," I say and walk back to my kitchen while they're goin' upstairs, Mr. Heath's hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Aw, do I have to?" Chad moans.

"Yup," says Mr. Heath, "but I promise you'll like it. We have bubbles."

"So it's you who's using my peppermint-scented foam bath!" Miss Audra says.

"Me? Nope. Never. But Nick..." I hear Mr. Heath tell her while they're vanishin' 'round the corner.

Mr. Nick? Foam bath? I ask you!

When they come down the backstairs I done set out a bowl of my chicken soup what's keepin' warm on the stove, a sandwich and a glass of cold milk from the icebox. The boy's wearin' some of Mr. Eugene's old clothes from the trunk in the attic and is smellin' faintly of peppermint. Now, where did I catch that scent afore except on Miss Audra?

"Here you go, Chad," says Miss Audra and sits down at the kitchen table with him, while Mr. Heath leaves through the kitchen door, callin' "See you later!"

The boy tucks in and as he's finishin', his gramps and Miz Victoria enters the kitchen arm in arm. That Mr. Tanner must be an old friend of hers, she's so happy to see him. Shortly after that Mr. Tanner and Chad leave, goin' to Oak Meadows as they say, and I hasten to the library to retrieve the bowl and mop up the water.

**********

Mr. Nick returns from town. "Mother!" he hollers, enterin' through the front door.

"Yes, Nick?" says she, comin' in from the garden with a basket of fresh cut roses.

"There's a telegram from Jarrod. The committee passed the bill for the dam!" he tells her, followin' her to the library. I amble after them with a vase filled with fresh water.

"That's wonderful!"

"They're going over Colter's construction plans now and we can expect their approval any day."

"I'm glad to hear it. Your brother has worked so hard for that dam!" she says, puttin' down the basket on the table.

"Perhaps they'll name it after him. After all we're providing the land for a quarter of its actual value."

"Ah. Which section is it?"

"Oak Meadows. You see, we only have to fill in the narrow gorge -"

"Oh. Now that may prove a bit of a problem," she says, startin' to prune the flowers.

"Why's that?"

"Because I've just sold it," says she.

"You've what?" he asks incredulous.

"You've heard me. You see, by rights Oak Meadows was never really ours. Your father promised it to our friend Jubal Tanner a long time ago," she states, arrangin' the roses in the vase.

"Jubal Tanner? Who's Jubal Tanner?"

"Your father's best friend, when we were young. And mine."

"Never heard of him. Where is he? Where'd he come from now?"

"He just turned up here this morning. I hadn't seen him in over thirty years," she says smilin' and goes on to explain, "He spent all that time mining to get the money for Oak Meadows and he and his grandson have just left to have a look at their property."

"Well, he can't have it. I'm sorry, but you'll have to cancel that sale."

"I won't."

"No, no, no. There's no sense in that at all!" he yells angrily.

"Nick, please lower your voice," she says undaunted.

Reminds me of ol' times when she was arguin' with Mr. Tom. He was all a-bluster, gettin' louder and louder, wavin' his arms 'round, jus' like Mr. Nick now, while she stayed as cool as a cucumber. He could make grown men quiver in their boots, could Mr. Tom, but never Miz Victoria in her dainty little shoes. No, sir, not her.

"I've heard the people talk about a dam in this valley since I was a kid."

"It will just have to go somewhere else." Stem after stem is put into the silver vase.

"It'll be Oak Meadows or not at all for a long time!"

"Oak Meadows belongs to Jubal Tanner and I doubt very much if he will sell."

"We'll see to your Jubal Tanner -" he threatens.

"Nicholas, I forbid you. I don't want you or anyone else putting pressure on Jubal to sell." She has quite a formidable voice for such a petite lady, has Miz Victoria. Could done told him it would do no good.

"Oh, Mother, you won't get any pressure from me. I'll not do any of the pressing, I'll promise you that. But when the people in this valley hear that they've lost their dam, your friend Jubal Tanner will learn the real meaning of the word pressure."

I sigh. Why does such things always happen to us?

**********

The next day when Mr. Jarrod comes home and they gather in the parlor for drinks I can hear Mr. Nick rantin' at his brother while I'm goin' between the kitchen and the dinin' room settin' the table.

"What the devil is the matter with you anyway?" he shouts. "You come home with exactly the news the whole valley is hopin' to hear, it's thrown back in your teeth, and you stand there as calm as a mule chewin' on summer grass!"

"What would you like me to do?" Mr. Jarrod asks reasonable.

"You've worked harder to get that dam put in than anybody else."

"That's true."

"Then get fired up!" Mr. Nick demands. "Show me something, anything. Just show me you're alive, will you?"

"Aren't you fired up enough for both of us?" counters Mr. Jarrod.

I agree. Two people with Mr. Nick's temper and volume would be jus' one too much.

For a while I can't follow their conversation as I'm in the kitchen gettin' the roast out of the oven and hear only snatches, mostly in Mr. Nick's voice.

"...stone wall..."

"...ram your head..."

When I go to tell them dinner's ready, they been joined by Miz Victoria and Mr. Heath who stands at the table toyin' with an apple.

"Some broken-down old nobody drifts in here, lookin' for somethin' -" Mr. Nick's jus' sayin'.

"Easy now," Mr. Heath warns him. "I drifted in here six months ago, lookin' for somethin'."

S'been that long already? My, my, how time flies!

"That was different," claims Mr. Nick.

"Was it?" asks Mr. Heath. "I was lookin' for what I believed was mine, a place to set some roots down. And that old man, he's lookin' for the same thing. I just can't see how I can argue against it."

Miz Victoria looks at him fondly.

But I think, oh, no. Not that again. They were gettin' along quite nice, lately. Mr. Nick done all but stopped needlin' Mr. Heath, and although he's still the one givin' the orders, the strain between them done let off. Now they're at odds again. 'Twould be a real bad mess if they started fightin' 'bout Mr. Tanner now.

"Couldn't we at least offer him another section of land?" suggests Mr. Jarrod, sittin' on the table in front of Miz Victoria who thrones on the settee regal-like.

"Your father and I helped him bury his wife in Oak Meadows. What other section would you suggest?" she says in a cuttin' voice.

P'raps I'll tell them 'bout dinner a bit later...

**********

Miz Victoria and Mr. Jarrod done ridden out to talk with Mr. Tanner. Mr. Tanner don't budge. Meanwhile the people in the valley get a bit agitated.

So Miss Audra comes home early from a party 'cause her friends was disrespectin' her mother. That's right unkind. If it wasn't for the Barkleys, why, there wouldn't be no dam at all, Mr. Tanner or no Mr. Tanner. Folks really should know better.

When she tells Mr. Heath, who's jus' polishin' the rifles in the gun room, about it he jus' says, "Oh, hon, just consider the source."

"I did more than that. I told her off," Miss Audra states proudly.

"As only you can?" teases Mr. Heath.

"Heath," she says, suddenly serious, "are you as confused as I am?"

"Whether to side with Mother and Tanner or Jarrod and Nick and the rest of the valley?"

She nods.

"There's a lot of good arguments on both sides," he says.

"Well, then you haven't decided either."

"I have."

"Then will you help me decide?" Miss Audra, she asks.

"My feelings are based on a lot of things that have only to do with me," he explains very gently.

Mr. Nick interrupts them, askin' Mr. Heath to go into town with him and talk some sense into Mr. Jarrod who's about to sign the land deed for Mr. Tanner.

Before they leave Mr. Heath turns 'round and says to Miss Audra, "Little sister, I'm sorry I can't help you decide. But whichever road you choose to travel, don't you think you could get there on your own?"

Mr. Nick musta liked that somehow, I think. I've never seen him lookin' on his brother so friendly-like.

**********

They come home all beaten up. Mr. Nick and Mr. Heath, that is. Mr. Jarrod's with them, but he's fine. He don't brawl, not Mr. Jarrod. Well, not regular at least. Mr. Nick now... let me tell you! I don't think there's a saloon in town where he not done had to pay for damages.

"Silas," says Mr. Jarrod, "you better look after these two rapscallions. They've been in a fight."

"I do that, Mr. Jarrod," I say, hopin' the fight has not been with each other. But they ain't on edge with each other like sometimes, so p'raps they been on the same side for once.

"That's not necessary!" booms Mr. Nick, who's sportin' a split lip.

"It's nothin', really," confirms Mr. Heath, black-eyed and hidin' his hands behind his back.

"We'll asks Miz Barkley," I suggest. She's nappin', but I know I won't have to wake her.

"Well, you work on Heath first," says Mr. Nick.

"Why me?" asks Mr. Heath, shrinkin' back.

"Because you're younger," says Mr. Nick. "I gotta get a soak first."

"Why you?" Mr. Heath demands to know.

"Because I'm older," says Mr. Nick, "and you started it." And he hides his smile, hurryin' upstairs, takin' two steps at a time. But I done seen it anyways. A man startin' a bar room brawl is a man after Mr. Nick's own heart, after all.

"You come to the kitchen with me, Mr. Heath," say I and he follows me, defeated.

"Now, let's have a look at you," I say while I get out the liniment.

He sits on the kitchen table and mutters, "Nick's got it worse. He don't know how to duck."

"Well, seems to me you's not too good at it either," I say and touch a liniment-soaked cloth to his cheekbone.

He makes a hissin' sound, but don't yelp.

"And now your hands, please," I say and he stretches them out in front of him, frownin'. I shake my head. The knuckles are bruised and raw. I wonder why he don't wear gloves like Mr. Nick. For a few moments neither of us says a word as I treat him.

"There you go," I say and sends him off.

"Nick's got a big lump on the back of his head," he advises me. "Just in case he forgets to mention it."

"Thank you for lettin' me know," I answer dignified-like and follow him upstairs, armed and determined.

Mr. Heath goes straight to his room as I go to the bathroom. It's locked, of course, but it's a lock you can open from the outside, if you know how. I do. Mr. Nick lounges in the tub, smokin' a cigar, with a shotglass standin' on the rim of the tub. Peppermint scent mingles with cigar smoke in the damp air.

"Hey!" he says irritated as I come in. "Can a man not even have a bath in peace in this house?"

"Not if he's hurt, he can't," I say.

"Hurt!" he scoffs. "A mere nothin'! Get out!"

"Is that Miss Audra's foam bath?" I ask, lookin' pointedly at the bottle standin' on the table next to the tub.

"All right, all right, but make it fast!" he says and leans his head back on the rim.

I dab at his lip and he hollers, "Ouch! Enough already! Now get out!"

"Lean forward please and let me see that lump on the back of your head!" I say undaunted.

He growls, but does as told. He really has an egg-sized bump which oozes a little blood. I pour the stuff direct from the bottle.

"OW! You bloody..." he yells. He always yells at me when I treat him with liniment. Always has. From when he was a little boy. I 'member how we used to chase after him, Miz Victoria and me, when his new pony had thrown him right into Miz Victoria's polyanthas, she tryin' to get at him with a washcloth, me followin' them with the liniment while he led us a merry chase through the house, spurs a-jingle, all the while yellin' it was jus' a trifle and he wanted nothin' to do with neither of us. Little good it did him.

"Have you seen his hands?" he asks, lookin' at his own slightly larger but similar formed ones.

"I sure have, Mr. Nick," say I, "thank you for mentionin' it. Please put away Miss Audra's foam bath when you're finished."

With that I leave, but wait 'round, straightenin' up Mr. Nick's bedroom. You can always find somethin' to do in there. When I hear the bathroom door open, I come out again and cross the corridor. Mr. Nick's jus' leavin' the bathroom in his dressin' gown, while Mr. Heath comes out of his room in jus' his pants.

"Snitch," snarls Mr. Nick as they pass. Mr. Heath throws him a wide-eyed innocent "who? me?" look and stops in the bathroom door, takin' a good look at the swamp-like conditions inside. He shakes his head at the wet floor and the strewn towels and closes himself in.

I go into Mr. Heath's room where you hardly ever find anythin' to do and take his shirt for the washin'. When I hear splashin' sounds and hummin' from the bathroom, I enter again.

Mr. Heath's jus' busy scrubbin' himself with a washcloth. The floor's dry, the used towels are in the hamper. The air's peppermint-scented again. The bottle's back on the table.

"Silas!" he gasps, shocked, and hides under the water, drapin' the washcloth over his midsection. "I'm takin' a bath!"

"I can see that, Mr. Heath," say I, sniffin' discreetly.

He looks at the bottle and blushes.

"Now you dry off and then you get another dose of liniment," I say, handin' him a towel and turnin' 'round to give him his privacy.

"Why's that?" he asks belligerently.

"'Cause you've washed it all off?" I suggest, lookin' out the window.

"Hmph," says he, but from the splashin' behind me I know he's doin' as told.

Sittin' on the rim of the tub, draped in a towel, he looks at me gloomily, but lets me treat his bruises again.

"Not fair," he complains.

"That's life," I agree and leave him alone.

I still have two bottles of liniment left, but I add "foam bath, peppermint-scented" to the shoppin' list.

**********

When I go through the house that evenin', dousin' the lamps and closin' the windows, Mr. Jarrod still sits in the parlor, starin' into the fire. He can't make up his mind 'bout that dam business. 'Tis hard for him to be at odds with his mother, I think. 'Tis not unusual for him to disagree with Mr. Nick, but Miz Victoria and Mr. Jarrod, why, they're more often than not on the same side. I leave him to his musin's and when I'm goin' to my room, Miz Victoria jus' comes down them stairs. She'll set him straight, I hope. 'Tis jus' not right the family bein' all torn up and all.

This night, when I kneel down to say my prayers 'fore sleepin', I ask the Good Lord to make it all right again. Let Miz Victoria and Mr. Jarrod agree with one another. Please do not let Mr. Nick and Mr. Heath come to blows. And let them townspeople see reason, or Mr. Tanner. Or better even, both of them.

**********

The next day Miz Victoria and Mr. Jarrod ride out to Oak Meadows again to see after Mr. Tanner and they bring his little boy home with them.

"I'm going into town to talk to the sheriff," Mr. Jarrod says as they enters.

"Please do that, dear," Miz Victoria, she answers. "Surely it must be possible to deputize a few men to keep watch out at Oak Meadows. After all Jubal's a citizen of Stockton now and can expect to be protected by the law."

"I hope you're right, Mother," says he, "but as things are at the moment I wouldn't be surprised if the sheriff's hesitant to go against public opinion. Anyway, I'll try my best."

With that he leaves and Miz Victoria asks me to make up a bedroom for Chad.

"Why, Master Chad," I say when we're in the guest room together puttin' up new sheets, "you stayin' with us now for a while?"

"Yeah," he answers poutin', "Gramps don't want me out there because of them raiders."

"Raiders?" I say.

He nods. "They pulled down our house frame last night and they said next time they would burn it down. It's right unfair!"

"That it is," I agree. "You jus' wait till Mr. Nick and Mr. Heath come home. They'll give them whatfor."

"They did already!" he cries. "They were the same men Mr. Nick and Mr. Heath tangled with in the saloon yesterday! Boy, oh, boy, that was a sight to see! That Mr. Crowell was pokin' Gramps in the chest and Mr. Heath, he asked him if that was a private game or could he play, too? And then he said something about Mr. Dutton being an egg-face or something and off they went! And then Mr. Nick went off, too! He threw that Mr. Crowell clean over the bar! It was grand! And then the sheriff came and threw us all out."

"That sure sounds excitin'," I say. Now, I don't hold with them bar room brawls and all that, but 'tis good to know that for once they were fightin' together, even if they don't see eye to eye in the matter.

"It was," confirms Chad and goes on, "Mr. Heath is really nice. Did you know that he grew up in a mining town, same like me?"

"Yes, I knew that," say I.

Chad pauses and frowns. Then he asks, "Why did Mr. Heath grow up in a mining camp and Mr. Nick here?"

"Well, some people jus' have more adventurous lives, I guess," I say airily, "so Mr. Heath and his momma lived in a minin' town, same as you and your gramps, and Mr. Nick and his momma lived here."

That makes sense to him and I say, "And tomorrow you can help out at the ranch, they always need a good man."

"You think?" he asks.

"I'm sure of it." I say.

**********

When they all come home in the evenin', Mr. Jarrod tells them that he can't find a single man in town willin' to support them. Even the sheriff says he can't spare the men to keep watch at Oak Meadows. So's the brothers and Mr. Tanner alone against them raiders. God help us all.

After dinner Mr. Heath plays checkers with Chad in the library. I din't know, but he has quite a hand with children, seems like. He's talkin' to the boy like he would to any grown up and listens to the boy's stories 'bout his life with his grandpoppa like he's really interested.

"Yeah, you know," I hear Chad sayin' when I serve the coffee, "I had a little business goin', deliverin' shavings from the local saw mill to the saloons in town. Made a pretty penny with that."

"Good idea!" says Mr. Heath quite serious, as if discussin' business opportunities with a local salesman. "I wish I had thought of that when I was your age. My mama sure would have been glad of the money."

"Where you alone with your mama when you were a boy, Heath?" asks the kid.

"Well, not quite," he says, "my mama's friends Rachel and Hannah lived with us. Or rather we were livin' in Aunt Rachel's house with them. When I was born my mama only had a tent to live in."

"I was born in a tent, too," says Chad.

"That sure got mighty cold in the winter, didn't it?" says Mr. Heath, one survivor to another.

"Oh boy, yes, my gramps and I used to sleep with all our clothes on, two pairs of socks and two shirts and our coats. And all the blankets we had."

"I was younger than you, so I don't remember all of it, but I do remember that the winter I was three I woke up one mornin' and everythin' inside our tent was covered with snow, 'cause that night there was a snowstorm and the tent got a big tear in it so the snow got in and everythin' was frozen, even the straw in the mattress."

"What did you do then?"

"Well, that winter we went to live with Aunt Rachel and Hannah, 'cause Aunt Rachel had just lost her husband in a minin' accident and was glad of the company."

"Where's your mama now?" the boy asks.

"She died," Mr. Heath says softly.

"Oh," says Chad. "My Ma and Pa died, too. They've got the fever when I was little."

"I'm sorry," says Mr. Heath. "That must've been hard."

"I hardly remember them," Chad answers, frownin', "but I've got Gramps. He's takin' care of me."

"It's good to have family," Mr. Heath agrees.

"And did you ever work in a mine, Heath?" Chad asks curiously.

"Sure did," Mr. Heath says. "Though not independently like your gramps. Never had the money to register a claim. I worked the mine in Strawberry till I left there and after the war I was diggin' for wages from Sonora to Mariposa and anywhere in between. Not a job I care for to tell the truth."

Miz Victoria's playin' chess with Mr. Jarrod and Miss Audra's readin' a book while Mr. Nick stands at the fireplace smokin' his after dinner cigar. But although they all pretend bein' occupied with somethin' else I can see that they're all listenin' to Mr. Heath and the boy talkin'.

I think he musta noticed, too, 'cause he finishes the game and, standin' up, says, "Well, time for bed, Chad. I'll help you with your bath."

When they done left, Mr. Jarrod pats Miz Victoria's hand. Miss Audra gets out her handkerchief and dabs at her eyes - her book sure must be dusty - while Mr. Nick makes a sound like "harumph", clearin' his throat. I take my coffee tray and leave.

When the ladies retreat for the night the brothers leave for Oak Meadows. 'Tis goin' to be a long watch.

**********

Three nights in a row nothin' happens. They always leave 'round sleepin' time, keepin' watch until the small hours after midnight. Mr. Nick done ordered breakfast to be served an hour later than usual to allow them enough sleep. Durin' the day Mr. Heath's keepin' the boy occupied. He has him by his side, fetchin' and carryin', all the while explainin' the job at hand and never gettin' tired of the boy's questions. Mr. Nick fairly rolls his eyes at it.

By the fourth night Mr. Nick's right grumpy. "Sticks in my craw," he grumbles, when they're preparin' themselves in the gun room for another night watch, "wastin' our time like this, when the entire valley agrees the dam is needed and should go there."

"Not the entire valley," counters Miz Victoria, comin' in.

"Well, I couldn't find one who would stand with us," Mr. Jarrod reminds her, puttin' on his gun belt.

"But it's been three days. May be they've decided to let Jubal alone after all," she says hopefully.

"No, they figure to strike sooner or later," says Mr. Heath, closin' his belt buckle.

"Sooner or later," Mr. Nick grumbles again, countin' his ammunition. "In the meantime there's all kinds of land he can have instead."

"Who said anything about land?" asks Mr. Jarrod.

"Isn't that what this is all about?" says Mr. Nick.

"No, Brother Nick, it isn't," Mr. Jarrod answers firmly.

"Nicholas," says Miz Victoria, "what if this particular piece of land had a very particular meaning to someone close to you?"

"That would all depend on what that meaning was," Mr. Nick says.

"If land weren't the issue, but it were a matter of personal rights and standing on those rights, no matter how unpopular they may be, is a hundred percent within the law?" Mr. Jarrod tries to explain.

"Well," says Mr. Nick, frownin' as he thinks this through, "I'd say, uh, one man's personal rights standin' alone are just as important..." here he comes to a halt, then continues, lookin' surprised, "as one man's personal rights standin' with a crowd."

They all smile at one another.

Mr. Heath makes his gun click. "Guess it sometimes takes a while, but eventually the Barkleys get around to seein' eye to eye with one another," he remarks, smilin' cheerful-like.

I don't know 'bout all of this. I jus' know that Mr. Tom rather done got shot than let the railroad do what wasn't right. I miss him, I do.

**********

This night they come home earlier than usual. I'm still awake and get up when I hear them horses. They're lookin' grave and Mr. Heath's carryin' the boy in his arms. Chad's hangin' onto him with his arms 'round Mr. Heath's neck and is weepin' into his shoulder. His shirt's all wet at the spot.

Mr. Heath silently nods at me when he passes me and carries the boy upstairs.

"You want some coffee, Mr. Jarrod?" I ask.

"No, Silas, thank you. I think we need something stronger," says he, as Mr. Nick's poppin' open the whisky bottle and pourin' two stiff drinks.

Mr. Heath don't come down again, so I go into my kitchen and brew some coffee anyways, then go on up the backstairs, carryin' two mugs.

He sits in a chair at the boy's bedside, shoulders slumped, lookin' tired and defeated. Chad's sleepin', his face all red and puffy-lookin'. I hand Mr. Heath a mug and settle in beside him. He nods his thanks, then tells me unasked, "They shot old Jubal." He's speakin' so softly I've to strain to hear him. "Chad saw it happen. He's been out there with us every night, hidin' in the wagon. It makes no sense. That old man dead, the boy alone, just so that people can have their goddamn dam."

He never curses. I'm glad he feels he can let go with me. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve, takes a sip of coffee and gifts me with one of his crooked half-smiles. "'Tis good."

I pat his arm. "What'll happen now?" I ask.

"Dunno. He said he's got kin folk in Denver. From his mother's side, I believe. P'raps they'll take him in."

"Mr. Jarrod will see to that," I say.

"Yeah."

"You go to sleep now, you look awful tired," I say gently.

He shakes his head. "I'm fine. I'll sit here in case he wakes up. Couldn't sleep now anyway."

If I had a dollar for every time he tells me he's fine when he's not, why, I'll be rich soon. But there's no swingin' him, I know that.

Mr. Jarrod and Mr. Nick come by, shortly peekin' their heads in on their way to their own beds, softly sayin', "Good night." He don't answer. Neither do I.

When I turn 'round in the door, he's sittin' there, restin' his elbows on his knees, face buried in his palms, silently mournin' the evil he couldn't prevent.

As I'm 'bout to descend the backstairs, Mr. McCall and Ciego are jus' comin' up, carryin' a blanket covered bundle between them.

"Mr. Barkley said to put him in one of the back guest rooms," Mr. Call explains pantin', while Ciego leans against the wall breathin' heavily under the load.

"Oh," I say and lead the way to the room besides the stair to the attic, where they put poor Mr. Tanner on the bed to wait for his burial.

I stay a while and pray for him.

**********

The next mornin', when I'm 'bout to start workin' on breakfast, Mr. Heath comes down the kitchen stairs, still in yesterday's clothes, pours himself a coffee and drinks it lookin' out the window. He's all pale and haggard and we don't speak. Only when he's halfway out the door I say, "See you at breakfast?"

"Don't think so," he says without turnin' 'round.

"Where you goin'?" I ask.

"Diggin' a grave," he says and is gone.

He's hardly been away five minutes when Miz Victoria enters the kitchen.

"Good morning, Silas," says she and lookin' at me goes on, "What happened?"

I shouldn't be the one to tell her, but I can't lie to her neither, so I say, "Mr. Tanner's dead, Miz Barkley. Mr. Heath's out there diggin' his grave."

She blanches and sinks down into one of them kitchen chairs.

"Oak Meadows?" she asks in a strangled voice.

"I s'pose," I say.

"What about Chad? Does he know?"

I nods. "He been with them every night. Hidin' in the wagon, says Mr. Heath. He been sittin' with the boy all night. P'raps you better go see him, Miz Barkley."

"You're right," she says. "Thank you, Silas." And gettin' up she straightens her shoulders, then walks slowly up the kitchen stairs. I hardly ever thinks of it, but of course, she's not young anymore neither.

Breakfast is a right sad affair. Only Mr. Jarrod, Mr. Nick and Miss Audra are at the table, talkin' softly among themselves as the brothers tell their sister what happened durin' the night. Miz Victoria and Chad are havin' breakfast upstairs in the boy's room. When I carry the trays down again they done hardly touched a thing.

Mr. Heath's gone for hours, and when he comes back he's so doggone tired, he don't answer when Mr. Nick's callin' him. If he don't hear him or jus' don't wanna hear him I can't tell. He jus' walks in the kitchen door and vanishes upstairs. But when Mr. Nick comes in blusterin' after him, I block the stairs and say, "He been sittin' with the boy all night and he been diggin' Mr. Tanner's grave all mornin', you leave him alone now, you hear?"

He rolls his eyes, throws up his hands and turns on his heel.

Then I hear the water movin' in the pipes and know Mr. Heath's takin' a bath. Soon after he comes down, freshly dressed and shaved and goes 'bout his chores.

Someone musta sent for Mr. Beckett, 'cause in the afternoon he arrives, deliverin' a coffin. And a very fine coffin it is, oak and with brass handles and all, but still... That's when Miz Victoria goes out and calls for Mr. Heath and between them they prepare Mr. Tanner for burial. They would do that for a friend.

**********

The funeral is in the evenin', with only Chad, the family and me attendin'. We're all in our Sunday clothes. Miz Victoria, Miss Audra and Chad go in the buggy. I ride with Mr. Heath in the cart with the coffin, and Mr. Jarrod and Mr. Nick are on horseback. Reverend Stacey done come in his own buggy and takes the rear. None of the townspeople show up and we wouldn't want them here anyways.

The hole in the ground is an exact three by six foot and right alongside the grave of Mrs. Tanner, which looks freshly straightened up, weeded and the wooden cross polished. We're all helpin' carryin' the coffin from the cart to the graveside, the brothers and me, and then lower it into the earth with the help of ropes. Miz Victoria holds Chad's hand and the boy looks right drawn and pale, but he don't cry anymore. He been so mature for his age anyways, now he done had to grow up pretty much over night.

The reverend reads from the Bible - from Isaiah, one of my favoritest - "Hast thou not known? Hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the creator of the ends of the earth fainteth not, neither is weary? There is no searching of his understanding. He giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall. But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not be faint."

'Tis good to think that Mr. Tanner will never be tired nor weary no more. Here he can rest now besides Mrs. Tanner who been waiting for him these thirty years. Soon Miz Victoria will plant flowers on their graves. And they will bloom one last spring. And when the dam is ready and the water comes, it'll cover them as soft as silk and they'll never be disturbed no more. Amen.

When the ladies leave with the boy, the brothers start fillin' in the grave. The reverend stays until they're done which is right nice of him. And then we all go home.

**********

I have a slow-roasting pot roast on the oven since the afternoon which fairly melts in the mouth, if I say so myself, but no one but Mr. Nick has an appetite. However, when Mr. Heath only takes a portion that would hardly be enough for Miss Audra on any other day and then only picks at his food, Mr. Nick takes his plate from him, loads it and plonks it down in front of him, commandin' "Eat!" in a tone that brooks no argument. I turn 'round and fiddle with the dishes to hide my smile. So, he does care after all, I think. When I turn back I see Miz Victoria exchangin' a glance with Mr. Jarrod. Mr. Heath glares at Mr. Nick for a moment, but does his best, which still is no good.

After dinner Miss Audra and Mr. Heath bring Chad upstairs while the others go into the library and I serve the coffee. When they come down again, Mr. Heath goes straight to the liquor table, pours himself a drink and asks, "So, what happens now?"

"We were just talking about that," says Mr. Jarrod, lookin' up from where he's sittin' on the settee with Miz Victoria. "I'll sell the land to the committee in Chad's name. And I've already wired his mother's relatives in Denver."

Mr. Heath downs his drink and walks over to the fireplace, leanin' against the mantel. "So, we let them get away with it, is that it?" he asks.

"Heath, be reasonable," says Mr. Nick unusually quiet, "the boy can't use the property now. He can't build a home and he can't work the land. What good would it do anyone to let it lie fallow just to prove a point?"

"The point bein' that they can't get away with murder," says Mr. Heath sharply.

"You're right," Mr. Jarrod agrees, "of course you are. But whom do you want to prosecute? The whole town? Dutton and Crowell are dead, so are two of their companions - and unless either of you have recognized any of the others we'll have a hard time proving anything at the inquest."

"Jubal wanted the land, this particular piece of land, for very personal reasons," says Miz Victoria gently. "But Jubal is gone now," she swallows, "and so are his reasons. I don't think we can still stand in the way of public welfare just to honor his memory. However hard it may be."

Mr. Heath nods, acknowledgin' her point, but I can see he don't like it none. Mr. Nick stands up and gets over to him and, grabbin' his shoulders, turns him to the door, sayin', "Go to bed, boy. You look like hell."

Mr. Heath don't fight him. "I think I'll do just that," he says, "good night everybody."

"Good night, Heath," they say and he leaves without turnin' back.

"It's so hard on him," Miss Audra says compassionate. "He liked Jubal a lot. So did I. And poor little Chad..." She sniffles a bit and gets out her handkerchief.

"We all liked Jubal, Audra," Mr. Nick says, fallin' back to his old tone.

"I just hope his mother's family will take him in," Mr. Jarrod muses.

"Oh, I'm sure of that," says Miz Victoria. "Jubal told me that they wanted him after his mother died, but he wouldn't let him go."

"You know," says Mr. Jarrod slowly, "we can't possibly send a boy his age to Denver on his own. It might be a good idea if Heath accompanies him there. - If you can spare him here, that is, Nick."

Mr. Nick thinks shortly. "Yeah. Yeah, that might be a good idea," he agrees.

And thus 'tis decided.

**********

The next few days are calm and quiet. Mr. Jarrod spends his days in town, arrangin' for the sale and negotiatin' with the committee. Telegrams are sent back and forth from Denver and finally, one evenin', Mr. Jarrod announces at the dinner table that he has word from Chad's uncle, his mother's brother, that he and his family are lookin' forward to welcomin' him in their home.

"And will they send someone to get him?" asks Mr. Heath.

"Uh, they didn't say," says Mr. Jarrod.

"Well, how do you expect him to get there?" Mr. Heath asks again. "He's only nine, Jarrod."

"Hm, that could pose a problem," Mr. Jarrod mutters.

Mr. Heath shortly looks at Mr. Nick, then turns to Chad and asks, "Well, Chad, what do you say, care for company?"

"You're coming with me?" Chad asks hopefully.

"If Nick can spare me," Mr. Heath says, lookin' at Mr. Nick again.

Mr. Nick makes a big show of frownin' and grumblin', but finally says, "Well, now, it's not really the busiest time of the year... so, I think it may be all right."

And while Mr. Heath and Chad is plannin' their travel, the rest of the family's exchangin' smiles and twinkles.

"And there's something else, Chad," declares Mr. Jarrod, "everyone from the sheriff to Len Colter wants you to know how sorry they are. A special council meeting has been held and they want your permission to name the dam after your gramps."

"I don't know," says the boy.

"Chad," says Miz Victoria, "you can go on being bitter about what happened, but that's not the way he would have wanted it. I know that for a fact."

She's lookin' older these days. But she'll recover. She done survived Mr. Tom's death, although you wouldn't have thought it possible at the time. She'll be fine.

"The Jubal Tanner dam..." Chad says tentatively.

"Sounds right good to me," Mr. Heath says.

"Will it be a good dam?" Chad asks Mr. Jarrod.

"The best we can make it, Chad," smiles Mr. Jarrod.

"You tell'em fine," says Chad, and so the dam has a name.

**********

They're gone now, the boy and Mr. Heath. They done left two days ago, after Mr. Heath done ridden out to Oak Meadows one last time with the boy to say his last farewell.

The weather, which up to now been unusually warm and dry for the season, done turned and it's gettin' colder every day. Rain's pourin' down, drenchin' the dry earth, and when it's not rainin', mist is foggin' up the air, wipin' all shapes from the landscape. 'Tis a weather made for mournin'. And 'tis quiet here right now. Everyone seems to speak in hushed voices. Even Mr. Nick done stopped hollerin'. Well, most of the time.

But that won't last long. Miz Victoria's already up in the attic some of the day, sortin' through the knick-knacks and decorations, 'cause in a few short weeks 'twill be Christmas time. Mr. Heath will be back by then, and Mr. Eugene will be home from college. Then we'll deck the house with boughs of holly, jus' like in the old song. And we'll have garlands and mistletoes and candles and a big Christmas tree.

Soon we'll start the bakin' and delicious scents will be waftin' through the house. Everyone will get secretive, stowin' away their presents where they think no one can find them. Friends have come and friends have gone, some of them for ever, but we all done got a very special gift this year and come Christmas we'll be celebratin'. 'Twill be Mr. Heath's first Christmas here.

"You tell Mr. Tanner his boy's gonna be fine, Mr. Tom," I say to the portrait when I'm straightenin' up in the library. "Your boy Heath is takin' him to Denver to be with his family."

Must hurry now, Miss Audra can't find her foam bath. Truth be told, last time I done seen it, it was in Master Chad's valise. I wonder how it got there?


End file.
